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P.S. I Love You is written by the very pretty Cecelia Ahern (Ireland's Prime Minister's daughter, I think). It's a tale of how a young husband who died from cancer left his wife a list of things to do to help her cope with his passing.

It's a CHICK read... but I must say it has its moments (much preferable really than the Shopaholic sh!t series). And ok, ok... I love Brit/irish authors. And ok, I am fascinated by death.

So reading the book has made me appreciate my husband much, much more... I can't, for the life of me, imagine a world anymore without him... so my heart really goes out to all those who have lost their soulmates and bestfriends in the person of their spouse...

Anyway, they made it into a movie... and may I just say, with such a powerhouse cast! Am not so thrilled actually to learn that Hilary Swank is playing the heroine (always thinking she's too masculine) but she is an Oscar winner twice over... and though I haven't watched the movie 300, I seriously doubt I won't drool and melt over Gerard Butler :)

And who doesn't love Kathy Bates and Lisa Kudrow???

And my gosh, Jeffrey Dean Morgan (Denny from Grey's Anatomy)!!! I think he'd have made a better Daniel character than Harry Connick Jr. (mainly because he's mastered that quiet, intense, piercing, soulful look that just makes you melt in his arms).

Ok fine... I have got to stop drooling :D

But I really hope the movie turns out great. It's showing in December abroad so we might get it sometime in January pa, given the usual Christmas Filmfest.

A guy friend and I were chatting yesterday... and he told me about still feeling 'the urge' to sleep around despite really being in love with his girlfriend.

(Might I add that a lot of my labskis are this comfy with me... am usually the only one they can ever turn to with such stories and secrets.)

I asked him if he's ever really surrendered to sex/making love... enough that the world literally shakes for him, or crumbles for him. If he's ever felt sated enough that, for a brief moment, he can say he need never have sex again... or need not seek sexual satisfaction again for days... or a long time.

If a woman has ever surrendered herself to him in the same way.

All he could think of to tell me is that he's scared of surrendering because he doesn't want to prematurely ejaculate... w/c is entirely missing MY point.

Surrendering to the pleasures and magic of sex has less to do with the actual orgasm and more to do with psychic release... that unexplainable feeling of totally existing and totally being in limbo (separate from this world and its realities and limitations).

That's the thing... you haven't really enjoyed sex when you haven't surrendered yourself to sex like that. I think this unconsciously explains why some people are enticed to be unfaithful... not really because they're not with their sexual soulmates... not really because they're exactly unsatisfied with their partners... but because they miss something they couldn't quite well grasp, a thing that we're hardwired to seek.

And men may be more likely to sleep around because, as much as they enjoy the game of hunting and gathering, few of them actually allow themselves to be THAT involved in the act.... to actually LOSE ONESELF in it.

I recently saw an episode of IMBESTIGADOR where they featured sex workers 'plying their wares' near places of worship.

Of course, it was all kinds of offensive and shocking... i'm just not sure though if these people moved there because Manila Mayor Alfredo Lim has deprived them of their usual haunting places (Rizal Avenue and Baywalk, for example, which, when former Mayor Atienza revived and beautified became watering holes for pimps, pros and perverts).

Anyway... male sex workers/prostitutes now haunt the area around Redemptorist Church, that Shrine in Baclaran that never closes. Just zero in on someone who's standing alone for a while. Yes, at least they don't have the nerve yet to actually pretend to pray inside while waiting for prospective customers... almost always gay guys who'd ask if they're waiting for someone, would they like to grab a bite, etc.

Another place of worship serving as a backdrop to such meat-selling is the Remedios Church in Malate. The M.O. here is slightly less crude, since it involves guys with cars who will pretend to park around the Remedios Circle, who will then be met by barkers (pimps) and asked what they want. The driver can just tell the barker his budget, after which the barker will let girls in that budget range parade in front of the car (all dressed in street clothes really, so it isn't that obvious) so the driver can choose.

And it is kinda sad that prostitution is the only 'profession' where female flesh really sells higher (oh, modelling is another one pala)... because girls at Remedios can easily fetch P1,500 while offers being made to the men at Redemptorist can be as low as P200.

And where's the police in this, you ask? Probably texting their textmates and waiting to collect their 'tongs' before the sun rises.

*~*

Another proof that sex remains a driving force in our tourism industry:

Hubs and his colleagues were drinking and dining around 2 months ago at Baywalk when they were approached by Koreans (in their 20s) and asked outright where to get girls and K-I-K-I (yeah, whoever instructed them could be nothing but boorish).

After almost a month of feeling like my old self, everything came crashing down again.

I feel bloated and heavy and gauche... my groin area hurts like hell everytime I move or shift in bed. Cramps are always threatening to overtake me. I can't manage long walks again. I constantly feel sleepy and exhausted.

And I find myself needing my husband always beside me again...

Ok fine, I am in my 36th pregnancy week. I can go into labor anytime...

And i've started feeling poor again... mostly because I can't spend any of our money since it's for the delivery. And there are all these things I want to buy... like more baby-related stuff, and a new phone, and gadgets for hubs. I don't even have enough to buy cocoa butter... sniff, sniff (ok, I know I really shouldn't complain since we did eat at Friday's last Sunday, and I have been drowning myself in ice cream since). And I am 'allowed' to spend... hubs has always been gracious about letting me shop anyway. I just hate lines at the check-out counters. :D

And then there's the birthday blues... I am turning 30 in less than a month. I'm not really mourning my youth just yet since I don't exactly feel ancient... but it is rather a milestone year, is it not? But I can't celebrate it with a party since we don't really know when i'd be giving birth... aside from the expense, i'm also too tired to actually plan even an afternoon merienda with friends.

And then there's my maternity leave and resignation... aside from having to cram finishing up deadlines, I'm also hard-pressed to sort my files/archives to save my personal files. We're also transferring offices so all the files that should be properly added to our central file must also be submitted to our clerk. I have an entire desk of personal belongings to sift through... and bring home. And i'm too lazy to do it... but i'm running out of time to do so. Tsk.

And then there's me, about to pop and all, getting myself much too involved in someone else's family drama.

And i'm missing Py a lot again.

And there are all these fears the impending delivery brings... all these anxieties of what ifs that hound me, whether awake or sleep.

And there are these crying jags again... the need to just sob and sob and sob with no real reason for doing so.

Last Wednesday, I had to rush to the side of my friend... who needed someone to talk to.

She's just left her husband. She's 'known' for years that her husband was cheating on her... she's found small proofs in his pockets, she's heard too many stories and excuses that don't ring true... but she stayed in the marriage because she wanted to protect her children.

Everything for her five kids... until it was her own daughter who saw the pictures and video of the father's philandering.

In a way, she could finally breathe... because she need not protect her children anymore from the truth that has killed all the love she ever had for the man she married, and all the self-respect she ever had for herself.

But it's always very shattering for a mother to see her children in pain.

And then, it's more shattering to have your own sisters tell you not to be hasty in your decisions.

What's worse, it's more shattering to have none of your children offer you a comforting word... to have none of them condemn their father for what he did.

That's one of the burdens of being a woman... even fellow women won't always support you when your heart gets broken by a man and you decide that enough is enough. And your children will always somehow expect you to be the one that holds the family together, regardless of the cost to you... as a person.

I told my friend that she has always been a good wife, though not faultless... and a great mother, though not perfect. But I remind her that before she was a wife and mother, she was a woman first... a human being with rights and limitations... and a daughter second... a child who owes the parents that raised her well to exact the treatment she deserves from everyone else.

I know she's a strong woman and would survive this. But oh, the scars... the trials ahead... the pain... the tears of her youngest son whenever he thinks he's become a victim of a broken family.

All because her husband believes in some sort of entitlement to being allowed to do whatever he wants... like bedding all these girls who work in clubs... just because he's provided well for his family materially.

He never even apologized when confronted... he never made any attempts to save the family... the most he did was tell the younger kids not to let the separation affect them because it's his and their mother's fault.

So, of course, my heart goes out to my friend. I cried with her. I cried for all the other mothers whose homes, whose lives, whose dreams, whose children were broken because they made the mistake of marrying an a$$hole.

I also told my friend that am sure her children are not being selfish with the way they're handling things... but as children, it's natural that their first instinct would be denial... self-preservation.

But am sure those who will want it badly enough will learn from the experience and turn the pain into something useful... something beautiful... and they'd all live and love again with innocence and hope.

So here's to another broken home... may there be less of them.

And here's to another broken woman... may the world converge to help her heal.

I was tagged by Mama Christianne almost a month ago, but am only now attending to the meme.

TEN RANDOM THINGS ABOUT MY MOM

~ she makes the meanest chicken mac salad, champorado, sotanghon soup and hot cocoa I know (actually she cooks a lot of other things she's known in our family for, but these are the only ones I really love)

~ Mom grew up poor and never got to shake off that poverty-ridden feeling, so she's always bent on saving money and absolutely isn't comfy about treating herself to anything really nice